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We moved around the Amazon in small wooden boats.  So one afternoon we headed up river to a tributary  and stopped.  The guide passed out bamboo poles with string and hooks.  He gave us chunks of beef heart and told us we had to catch our dinner.

The fish, piranha, took the bait but avoided the hook.  The sky was growing dark and the bugs were bad but we persisted.   Then the downpour began.  It poured and everything was soaked and we kept fishing.

Finally we convinced our guide we'd had enough.  By the time we got back to the lodge we were all cold and wet and miserable but it was really kind of fun.

About 36 hours after the fishing expedition the guide had a cold.  Then one of the group members, then me, then one by one about  7 of the 10 of us were coughing, sniffling,  etc. No problem...it happens.

We left the Amazon and flew to Cusco which is at 11,000 feet.  There the cold became more of an issue.  Two people passed out from the altitude.  Breathing was difficult.  I can't recall any time when I've been more conscious of breath or more aware of its absence.

For most ancient people breath and spirit and life are all related.  Breath is the spirit of the Holy filling us and giving us life.  As with so many other things in life, it takes a shortage to make us aware and appreciative.

I am so very grateful. 

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